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University  of  California  -  Berkeley 


FURTH       ER          LIGHT 

AND    OTHER    POEMS    WRITTEN    FOR    MASONIC    OCCASIONS. 
ALSO    TRIBUTES    TO    HIS    FRIEND    ABRAHAM    LINCOLN. 


By 


HENRY  PELHAM  HOLMES  BROMWELL. 

(  Baltimore 1823 1903 Denver  ) 


Edition  of  Eighty  Numbers. 
Copyright  by  Henrietta  Elizabeth  BromwelL 
DENVER,      COLORADO 

1920 


THE  BAfJCRGFT  MI3R/ 


• 


"//  /    should,  Bromwell,  ever  write  a  book 

Entitled  'Men  who  worthy 'prove  of  fame', 

I  would  the  work  begin  with  your  pure  name. 

Before  I  would  to  any  other  look; 

Fd  show     how,  when  your  country  undertook 

Herself  to  save  from  going  down  in  shame, 

You,  in  her  councils,  to  her  rescue  came, 

And  did  all  opposition  boldly  brook. 

You  I  would  range  with  honest  Washington, 

With  Madison,  and  Jefferson,   and  Clay, 

And  Daniel    Webster,  that  broad  blazing  star, 

Who,  while  he  shone,   Secession  held  at  bay 

You  too  shall  honored  be  for  what  you've  done, 

If  ever  right  and  justice  have  their  way." 

Theophilus  Van  Deren. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTES. 


[  From  the  Proceedings  of  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Illinois,  1903,  p.  142;  3 

"Henry  Pelham  Holmes  Broznwell,  Past  Most  Worshipful 
Grand  Master  of  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Illinois,  (serving  in  1865) 
and  honorary  member  of  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Colorado,  jur 
ist,  author,  and  legislator.  Born,  August  26,  1823.  Died,  Jan 
uary  9,  1903.  (  Master  of  Charleston  Lodge  No.  35,  1858-59-60- 
61-62-63.  ) 

"Brother  Henry  Pelham  Holmes  Bromwell  was  a  fitting  ex 
ample  for  any  man  to  safely  follow,  no  matter  how  exalted 
his  station  in  life.  He  was  a  descendant  of  Puritan  stock. 
He  was  a  material  factor  in  the  formation  of  the  laws  and 
history  of  two  states  of  the  Union,  and,  to  some  extent,  of 
the  Nation  at  large. 

"As  an  orator  he  had  but  few,  if  any  equals.  Some  of  his 
flights  of  eloquence  before  this  Grand  Lodge  in  former  years, 
were  marvels  that  ring  in  our  ears  today,  and  will  never  be 
forgotten.  He  possessed  the  superb  delivery  of  Everett,  forti 
fied  with  the  power  of  Webster;  and,  notwithstanding  this, 

one  of  his  conspicous  characteristics    was  his  refinement 

humility. 

"Nor  is  this  all.  He  was  as  good  as  he  was  grand.  Of  his 
Masonic  history  nothing  need  be  written  here.  The  records 
of  this  Grand  Jurisdiction  teem  with  his  glorious  achieve- 


3IOGRAPHICAL    NOTES. 


ments,  as  do  those  of  Colorado,  where  he  had  for  so  long  a 
period  made  his  home.  He  was  like  a  spotless  lily,  standing 
by  a  cooling  stream a  source  from  which  to  draw  ev 
ery  laudable  inspiration." 

[  Proceedings  of  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Illinois,  1903,  p.  171,    From  the 
address  of  Brother  Joseph  Robbins  to    the   Grand  Lodge:  ] 

"There  are   few  men    in    this  body perhaps  not   more 

than  half  a  dozen  —  who  remember  Brother  Bromwell  when 
he  first  appeared  before  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Illinois. 

"Tall,  straight  as  an  arrow,  with  eagle  eye,  and  hair  of 
quite  aboriginal  blackness,  talking  in  parables  clad  in  quaint 

speech,   fluent,   yet  measured  as  became  his  subject such 

is  the  picture  which  stands  out  in  my  memory  of  the  Grand 
Orator  of  this  Grand  Lodge  in  1862. 

"The  same  figure  mounted  upon  a  chair,  alive  all  over, 
with  tongue  of  fire,  and  the  volubility  of  a  Niagara, de 
nouncing  as  treason  to  Masonry,  and  the  users  thereof  as 
foresworn,  the  cypher  which  played  so  prominent  a  part  in 
the  fierce  conflict  which  raged  over  the  subject  of  work  in 

the  early  sixties stands  out  as  one  of  the  dominant  forces 

of  the  stormy  convention  at  Bryan  hall  in   1863. 

"The  same  figure,  that  of  the  newly  installed  Grand  Mas 
ter,  alert,  prompt,  decisive,  but  wielding  the  gavel  with  sing 
ular  moderation,  and  with  almost  over-generous  recognition 
of  the  rights  upon  the  floor,  of  those  who  but  yesterday  had 
been  his  opponents  —  is  the  picture  my  memory  retains  of 
the  executive  of  1865  and  1866.  Such  altogether  is  my  recol- 


BIOGRAPHICAL    NOTES. 


lection  of  three  aspects  presented  by  the  most  singularly 
striking:  personality  that  has  graced  the  presence  and  adorn 
ed  the  annals  of  this  Grand  Lodge  since  its  organization." 

"L3okmg  backward  through  the  perspective  of  the  fleeting 
years,  at  him,  and  hia  compeers,  I  am  sure  that  I  reflect  the 
feeling  of  all  those  who  were  a  part  of  the  events  of  that  pe 
riod,  when  I  say — there  were  giants  in  those  days," 

"Failing  of  a  renonrnation  for  Congress of  which  he  was 

a  member  during  and  after  his  grand  mastership,  he  sought  a 
new  field  for  his  energies  in  the  Territory  of  Colorado.  There 
his  abilities  were  quickly  recognized.  He  became  a  member 
of  the  territorial  legislature,  of  the  convention  which  framed 
the  constitution,  and  of  the  first,  and  subsequent  state  legis 
latures,  and  later  was  the  commissioner  to  revise  the  statutes 
of  the  stats;  and  in  these  capacities  he  left  his  impress  all 
over  the  constitution  and  jurisprudence  of  the  new  common 
wealth.  His  part  in  giving  woman  the  ballot  was  so  great 
that  there  was  no  one  to  dispute  the  title  which  he  ever  aft 
erwards  bore  —  that  of  the  father  of  equal  suffrage  in  Colora 
do." 

"This  gives  you  some  idea  of  the  forceful  character  of  the  man. 
His  zeal  for  Maonnry,  and  his  love  for  it,  knew  no  abatement 
with  his  change  of  residence;  and  while  he  lovingly  remember 
ed  this  Grand  Lodge  that  had  honored  him,  and  preserved  his 
affiliation  with  it,  he  took  an  active  part  in  the  affairs  of  the 
Fraternity  in  Colorado.  He  was  made  an  honorary  Past  Grand 
Master  of  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Colorado  at  an  early  day,  and 
from  that  day  on,  no  annual  communication  passed  while  he 


BIOGRAPHICAL     NOTES. 


was  in  health,  that  some  opportunity  was  not  found  or  made 
to  draw  from  him  an  address  upon  the  principles  or  symbol 
ism  of  Masonry. 

"As  an  adviser  he  was  a  principal  factor  in  the  revision 
of  their  code,  and  was  the  author  of  their  funeral  service, 
containing  a  remarkable,  original  Master  Masons'  hymn,  fam 
iliar,  probably,  to  but  few  of  you,  as  not  many  copies  of  this 

service  have  found  their  way  to  Illinois a  dirge  which  in 

its  tremendous  power  of  rhythm,  language  and  thought,  at  once 
recalls  the  Dies  Irae,  one  of  the  notable  poems  of  the  ages. 

"At  its  last  communication  during  his  life,  the  Grand  Lodge 
sent  a  committee  to  his  bedside  with  greetings  from  his  breth 
ren  and  a  message  of  encouragement  and  hope*  But  the  hope 
proved  vain.  Tossed  by  the  storms  of  nearly  eighty  winters, 
his  worn  and  frail  bark  slipped  from  its  moorings,  and  drift 
ed  out  upon  that  silent,  peaceful  sea,  of  whose  boundaries 
we  know  only  the  hither  shore. 

"Brother  Bromwell's  mind  was  of  a  singularly  subtle  cast 
and  it  was  so  many-  sided  that  it  kept  him  in  touch  with  all 
the  affairs  of  men.  Tap  it  on  any  side,  and  wisdom  flowed, 
not  simply  because  of  his  quick  perception,  for  he  had  that, 
but  because  the  subject  had  been  thought  out. 

"Altogether,  his  was  the  most  singularly  striking  personal 
ity  that  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Illinois  has  known  since  its  org 
anization. 

"His  mind  was  of  that  peculiar  cast  that  he  delighted  in 
inysticism  and  symbolism.  He  might  have  flooded  his  time 


BIOGRAPHICAL      NOTES. 


with  degrees  whose  rituals  would  have  bean  worth  the  study  of 
any  man.  But  he  was  too  safely  anchored  for  that.  He  had  too 
profound  an  appreciation  of  the  value  of  the  Masonry  as  defined 
and  circumscribed  by  the  landmarks;  the  Masonry  of  the  Charg 
es  of  a  Freemason;  the  Masonry  handed  down  to  us  in  its  sim 
plicity  and  dignity  by  the  fathers,  to  permit  anything  else,  with 
him,  to  take  its  place.  He  recognized  the  fact  that  Masonry  was 
the  prophet  of  that  altruism  which  permeates  modern  society, 
the  environment  of  Masonry,  where  once  it  only  permeated  the 
Fraternity  itself. 

"Above  all  he  recognized  the  tremendous  power  exerted  by  a 
pattern  of  free  representative  government  —  a  pattern  wrought 
out  by  the  doctrine  of  equality  sprinyhigr  from  the  brotherhood 
of  man,  and  making  Masonry  a  model  commonwealth  long  be 
fore  the  enfranchising  idea  that  governments  derive  their  just 
powers  from  the  consent  of  the  governed  had  found  lodgement 
in  th?  world  outside  of  the  Fraternity.  If  I  had  time  I  would 
dwell  for  a  moment  upon  the  influence  which  the  experimental 
knowledge  gained  in  Masonry  by  the  great  men  of  our  Revoluti 
on,  of  the  possibility  of  a  free,  repr  ?sentative  government,  with 
only  such  limitations  upon  the  liberty  of  the  people  as  were  self- 
imposed—  had,  in  shaping  and  developing  this  government  of  ours. 

"Brother  Bromwoll  appreciated  this,  and  because  this  pattern 
of  a  government  resting  on  the  consent  of  the  governed  is  in 
wrought  in  the  landmarks  of  masonry,  he  had  held  these  land 
marks  as  the  apple  of  his  eye;  and  could  he  have  sent  a  last 
message  to  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Illinois,  it  would  have  been  to 
preserve  the  landmarks  above  everything,  not  only  because  they 
are  irrevocably  entailed  upon  us,  but  because  they  embrace  this 
principle  of  a  government  of  men  by  themselves,  the  evangel 
and  the  hope  of  mankind  in  all  ages  to  come," 


THE      LUTE      OF      I  S   K   ^E   F  E    L, 


Philharmon: 

O  the  wond'rous  things   they  tell 
Of  the  Angel  Isreefel  ! 
He  whose  heart  string's   are  a  lute: 
At  whose  voice  the  Heavens    are  mute; 
Singer,   who,    as  angels  tell, 
Doth  all    sons  of   God   excel. 
Would   that  could    these  ears  of  mine 
Catch  but  once  his    strain  divine  ! 
All   my   soul  would  glow  with   bliss, 
All   my  life  be   charmed   from    this; 
Blessed   are  their  ears  who  dwell 
Near  the  lips   of  Isrsefel. 

Israefel: 

Who  is  this   would   hear  my  voice  ? 
Let   his  soul  henceforth  rejoice; 
Hail  O  son  of  mortal    birth, 
Thou  shalt   hear  my  notes    on   Earth; 
Thou   shalt   feel   the  holy   spell 
Of    the  voice  of    Israefel, 


THE    LUTE    OF    13K/EFEL. 

Pktlkarmon:    - 

Hark!  a  rushing   sound  I  hear, 
Music  fills  the  ethereal  sphere. 
List  !  what  notes   unheard  before, 
Through  my  inmost    being  pour  ! 
In  the  rapture  of  their   thrill 
Breath    departs    and   heart  is  still. 

'Twas   the  sound  of  Angel   wings; 
Hail  I   'tis  israofel  who  sings ! 
O   the  rapture  of  delight, 
Who    can   speak  its    wond'rous  height 
Angel,   whence  such   marv'lous  tone? 
Wherefore  from  thy  lips  alone  ? 
Tell    me  why  such  transports   dwell 
In    the  tones  of  Israefel  ? 

Israefel: 
Know,  thou    mortal   that  the  thrill 

Which   doth   so   thy  spirit  fill, 

Cometh  not  from   lip  or  tongue, 
'Tis   the  lute  within    me  strung; 

Lute  with  strings  of  sweet  accord, 
By  the  finger  of    the  Lord. 

Touched  with  Three,  and    Five,   and  Seven. 

Cardiac    symphonies  of  Heaven; 

This    hath  wrought  the  wond'rous  spell 


THE    LUTE    OF    ISRJEFEL. 

In   the    notes   of   Israefel. 

Philharmon: 

Would    such    ecstacy    might  flow 
From   the  voice  of   man   below  ! 
Would   that  Heaven  might  grant  to  me 
Such   a  lute   as  dwells  in   thee  ! 
Round   the  Earth  my  feet  would  haste, 
Vale  and   forest,  field   and  waste 
l&les  and  mountains,  seas  and  plains 
Live  enchanted  by  my  strains. 
Human  melodies  grow  tame, 
Sirens'  song's  be  put  to  shame, 
Voices  of  all  winds  should   be 
Tuned   to   flutes  of  Heaven  by  me; 
Sounds   of  waters   all  excel 
Concords  of   the  Naiad's  shell: 
Echoes    of  the    glen    and  hill 
In  seraphic  rondeaus  trill; 
Trees  should    be  with   passions   fired, 
Birds  and  beasts  with   souls  inspired: 
Human  hearts   delirious   leap, 
Angel   eyes  with    rapture  weep. 

Grant  me  Heaven 

This  marv'lous    spell, 
Grant  this    lute  of  Israefel  ! 


THE    LUTE     OF     ISR^FEL. 


Isrc.efel: 

Hold,    thy   heart  i&  in   the  wrong-, 
Net  for   this   IB   Heavenly    song, 
Selfish   rapture  thou   wouldst  gain, 
Triumph  for  thy  soul  obtain; 
Know  that  who  this  lute  would  bear. 
First,   with  all  the  joy  would  share. 
Iviiow  this  wond'rous  gift    of  mine 
Is  naught  else  than  Love  divine; 
This   alone  hath   wrought  the  spell 

In   the  tones  of  Israefel. 
Philkiirmon: 

Woe  is  me,  this  voice  to  hear, 
Fettered  in  this  mortal  sphere  ! 
Woe  is  rne,    to  thus   have  known 
Gifts  which  ne'er  can   be  mine  own. 
What  is  life,  henceforth  forlorn  ! 
Better  had   I  ne'er  been  born, 
Would   that  God   mine  ears  had  cursed 
Unto  deafness  from   the  first, 
Ere  I  felt  the  charms  which  dwell 

In   the    voice  of  Israefel. 
Why  should   such  a  gift  be  given 
Unto   him   alone  by   Heaven  ? 
Why  should   Heaven  and  Earth  be  dumb 
If  but  Israefel  do  come  ! 


THE    LUTE    OF    ISRJSP^EL. 


Instruments   be  put  to  scorn 
Bird  and   beast  be  left  forlorn; 
Voice  of  man,  as  mine,    in  shame 
Echoes  but  his   worshipped  name, 
All   as  one  condemned    to  swell 

Triumphs  of  this  Israefel  ! 

Isruefel: 

Nay,  'tis    well   that   thou  didst   hear, 
For  thy  sake   I   now  am  here  ! 
Didst  thou  sigh  to  hear  my  strain  ? 
Wherefore  dost  thou  now  complain  ? 
Knowst  thou    why  thy  heart  is  mute  ? 
Who  forbids  to  thee  a   lute  ? 
Know    thou  that  the  Lord,  in  me 
Wrought  but  that  he  would  for  thee. 

Every  heart  his    hands    have  made 
Hath    a  lute  with  strings   arrayed, 
Hath  a  lute  wbose  strings  are  seven, 
Answering  to   the  chords  of    Heaven: 

Yet  to  place  that  harp  in  tune 
Thou  with  Heaven  must  first  commune. 
'Tis  but  love  divine  which  brings 

Music  from  those  hidden    strings, 

Love  divine  whose  sweet  control 

Tunes  the  harp   of    every  soul  ! 


THE    LUTE     OF     ISR^FEL. 

This   the   Angel's   song  inspires, 

Wakes    the  seraphs'  holy  fires, 

This  about  thy  heart  hath   run, 
Since   its  pulse  of   life  begun. 
Holy  currents  to  and  fro, 
With  its  throbbing  ebb  and  flow 
But  for  this,   thy   selfish  sin, 
Filling  every  cell  within; 
Then    would  mystic    cords  full   strung 
Fill  with  melodies  thy  tongue. 
Love  and   wisdom  in  degree, 

Even  as  thy  state  may  be. 
If  with  love    thy  heart  abound, 
String 'd  with  three  thy  lute  shall  sound; 

If  in  wisdom  thou  excel, 
Five  the  cords    that  then  shall   swell; 

If    thou  art  both  good  and  wise 
Seven-fold  harmonies  shall  rise; 
Such  as  those    whose  charms  excel 

In   the  notes  of   Israefel. 

1868. 


THE 


ROYAL         ARCH. 


TEE     LUTE    OF    ISR^EFEL. 


THE  ROYAL  ARCH. 


How  fair   the  Mason's  checquered    floor, 

How  cheerful    is  the  rugged  march 
When  Friendship  tiles  the  inner  door, 
And  Love  completes 

The  Royal  Arch  ! 


The  quarry's  toil  is  gladsome  play. 

The  noisome  crypt  is  holy  ground, 
And  incense  floats  o'er  ruins  gray 
From  altars  in 

the  desert  found. 


While  those  who  grasp   the  dross  of  Earth, 

Must  strive  thro'  turmoil,   pain  and  fear, 
The  jewels   of  celestial  worth 
Await   the  faithful 

Master  here. 


THF/     ROYAL     ARCH, 


But  gain  qf  pelf  and  granp   of  power 

Elude  the  living  heart's  desire; 
They   perish  with   the   flitting  hour, 
Consumed  in  truth's 

alchemic  fire, 

L?t  discord  lead  her  frantic  march, 
And  envy   smite,   and  rage  assail. 
Companions  of  the  Royal  Arch 
Walk   arm  in  arm 

within  the  veil. 

The  friendly  heart  and  clasping  hand, 

The  wisdom  of  the   hidden  lore 
Whose  lessons  guide  to  Eden's  land 
The    Sons   of   Light 
forevermore. 


(  Written  for  the  Webster  presentation.) 


THE        SACRED        RIVERS. 


THE        SACRED        RIVERS. 


Azrael: 

Mortal,  I  have  heard  thy  cry, 
If  thou  seek  me,   here  am  I  ! 
Wherefore  hast  thou   called  me  so  ? 
What  the  secret  thou   wouldst  know  ? 

Elkana: 

Angel  of  the  higher  sphere, 
Give  me  ease  from   pain  and   fear. 
Hast  thou  not  the  hidden  art 
Life  and  pleasure  to  impart  ? 
Here  I  wander   sad  and  lone, 
All  my  path  with  tears  is  sown; 
Gnawing    cares  my  heart    assail. 
Pains  above  my  strength  prevail: 
Naught  avails  my  toiling  here, 
In  this   barren   land  and  drear, 
Deserts  spread  on  every   side, 
Wasted  streams  and  fountains  dried, 


THE    SACRED    RIVERS. 


Fruit  of  vine  and   fig  tree  fall, 
Corn  and  olive  perish   all; 
And   the  reaper's  hand   receives 
Brambles  oft  instead    of  sheaves. 
I   have  heard  of   brighter   skies 
In  a  land   called  Paradise; 
Heard  that  sacred  rivers  there. 
Cleanse  from   sickness,  pain  and 

care. 

I    would  lave  my  wearied   soul, 
Where  their  living  currents  roll  , 
On   their  shores  of  bloom  recline, 
Gather  corn   and  oil   and  wine; 
Tell   me  Angel,  thou  dost  know, 
Where  the  Sacred   Rivers  flow  ! 

Azrael: 

Yes,  I  know  a  land  that  lies 
In    the  light  of  blessed  skies: 
Life  and  health  and  pleasure  there 
Dwell  in  field  and  stream  and  air; 
Winds  of  music  fill  the   skies, 
With  the  hymns  of  Paradise, 
Springs  of  marv'lous  beauty  pour. 
Trees  of    life  bloom  evermore, 


10 


THE    SACRED    RIVERS. 


Shedding  Heavenly   manna  sweet, 

Angel's  fruit  that  man  may  eat  ; 

Flowers  of  holiest  incense   grow, 

There  the  Sacred   Rivers  flow. 

Elkana. 

Thou  dost  speak  of  Heavenly  streams, 
Only    seen  in   holy   dreams; 
Those  whereof  the  seers   told 
In    the  mystic  leaves  of  old; 
What  are  those  to  one  like  me, 
Bound  in    life  of  low  degree  ? 
Though    that    blessed   land  be  fair, 
When  did   mortal  venture  there  ? 
Who  would  thither  pass  must  brave 
All  the  terrors  of  the  grave  ! 
Tell  me  of  some  land   below, 
Where   such  sacred  rivers  flow, 

Azrael; 

Yes,  a  land  is  found  on  Earth, 
Where  immortal   springs  have  birth; 
Where  all   tempests  cease  their    strife, 
And  the  plants  yield  balm  of  life, 
Where  the  quickening  airs  assuage 
Sorrow's  pain  and  passion's  rage; 
Flowers  of  healing  odors  grow, 
There  the  sacred  rivers  flow. 


11 


THE    SACRED    RIVERS. 


Elkana: 

Tell   me  then  the  name  of  each 
How  their  charmed   banks  to  reach, 
What  the  dangers  of  the  way  ? 
How  to  compass  them  I  may  ? 
What   high  mountains  intervene  ? 
What  dark    rivers  roll  between  ? 
What  deep  ocean's  billows  toss 
And  the  deserts  drear  to  cross  ? 
What  wild  beasts  or  serpents  dread, 
Guard  the  paths   that  I   must  tread 
Ere    I  yet  may    see  and  know 
Where  the  sacred  rivers  flow  ? 

Azrael; 

Nay,    the   streams  are   at  thy  feet. 
Near  thy  path  their  ripples    beat; 
All  the  land  before  thee  lies, 
'Tis  the  same  called    Paradise! 
God's  own  garden  stand eth  fair, 
In  the  East  of  Eden    there 
Which  the    seers  knew  of  yore, 
With  its  sacred   rivers  four: 
Streams  by  mortals  such  as  thou 
Oft  discovered  then  as  now, 
Gijion,  Pison,  Hiddekel, 


12 


THE    SACRED    RIVERS. 


And  the  Euphrates  as  well. 
One  in  beauty,  southward   streams 

Neath  the  sun's  meridian  beams 

One  whose  strength  resistless  flows, 

To  the  golden  sunset    goes 

One  with  silent  sweep  doth  roll, 
Constant  to  the  steady  pole. 
Crystal  clear  the  fourth  goes  on, 

To  the    portals  of  the  dawn. 
One  in  Temperance    will  control 
All  the  passions  of  the  soul; 
One   shall  Fortitude  impart  — 
Moral   strength  to  nerve  thy  heart 
One  with  Heavenly  Prudence  guide 
All  thy  steps  whate'er  betide: 
And  the  fourth  thy  heart   incline 

To  the  Golden  Rule    divine, 
Bring  thy  selfishness  to  naught, 
And  to  Justice  all  thy  thought. 
He  who  would  these  waters  share 

Must  a  golden  vessel  bear 

Charity,  the  cup  divine 

Turneth  water  all  to  wine: 
Only  from    this  blessed   bowl 
Canst  thou  drink  to  fill  the  soul, 

Purifying    all    within 

13 


THE    SACRED    RIVERS. 


From   the  love  of  self  and  sin. 
If  thou  taste  those  rivers  four, 
Thou  may  at  find    an  open  door; 
Those  who  are  prepared  and  true, 
Enter  there,  as  thou  mayst  do: 
Knocking  thrice,   for  this  thou  must. 

Showing  thus  in  God  thy  trust: 

Only  be  thou  not  dismayed, 
By  the  cherub's  turning  blade: 
For  the  Garden   of  the  Lord 

Lies  beyond   the  flaming  sword. 

There  the  land  thou  seekest  lies, 
All  its  charms  await  thine  eyes; 
There  the  toil  and   tumult  cease 
And  thy  soul  may  learn  of  peace. 
Warmth  of  Love  and  light  of  Truth 

Keep  thee  in  unfading  youth. 

There  the  flowers  shed  holy  air, 

Fruits  of  virtue  ripen  there 

Trees  of  life  spread  all  their  palms, 
Singing  winds  conspire  in  psalms, 
Streams  of  honey,  milk  and  wine 

Flow   for  every  need  of  thine: 

14 


THE    SACRED    RIVERS. 


Dews  of  Eden  as  they  fall 
Shed  beatitudes  on  all. 

Now  thy  feet  are  on  the  brink, 
Take  this  cup  of  mine  and  drink, 
Lest  thou  feel  the  flaming  sword, 
Take  this  signet  of  the  Lord, 
These  will  cause  thine  eyes  to  see. 
Gates  of  Paradise  to  thee. 
These  long  since  had  made  thee  know* 
Where  the  Sacred  Rivers  flow  ! 


15 


TO    H.    G,     R 

[  On  the  death  of  his  children.  ] 


Brother,  pressed  with  anguish  sore, 
Wandering  on  the  checquered  floor, 
Halting,  weary,  weeping  lone 
O'er  thy  precious  jewels  strown: 

Let  not  all  thy  courage  fail, 
Let  thy  fortitude  prevail; 
For  the  Master  leads  not  where 
Strength  and  faith  shall  fail  to  bear. 

Though  upon  thy  way  below, 
Joys  and  sorrows  with  thee  go, 
Yet  the  woes  that  bid  thee  mourn 
May  not  pass  the  mystic  bourne. 

Though  the  gloom  divide  the  light 
Still  thy  tessellled  way  is  bright: 
He  who  laid  its  ashlars  fair, 
Gave  not  any  to  despair. 


17 


To    II.     G.    R- 


Those,  thy  loved  ones,  passed  before, 
Through   the  ever  open  door, 
By  His    bidding   ushered  in, 
Past  the   veils  and    cherubim, 

Wouldst  thou  grieve  to  see  them  there, 
In   the  inner  chamber  fair  ? 
Wouldst  thou  sigh  to  hear  their  psalms  ? 
Weep  to   see  the  immortal  palms  ? 

Look,   upon  that   sea  of  glass 
Never  pain   or  sorrow  pass; 
See  the  many  mansions  fair, 
And  thy  glorified  are  there. 

Tho'  their  earthly   bloom  was    laid 
Where  the  smitten  violets  fade, 
Tho'   the  damp  and   silent  cell 
Holds   the  forms  thou  loved st  so  well, 

Couldst  thou  see  them  as  they  are, 
See  the  beauty  now  they  bear 
Joy  would  call  thy  heart  away 
Glory   fill  thy  mortal   day, 


18 


To    H.    G,     R- 


Soon,  when  thou,  as  these,   shalt  go, 
Other  loved  ones'   tears   shall  flow, 
Other  hearts  with  grief  and  pain, 
Sigh  for  that,   thy  wcnd'rous  gain. 

Then   shall  light  that  doth  arise. 
For  the   upright  bless  thine   eyes. 
When  thy  angels   hail  thee  in, 
Past    the  veils  and  cherubim, 

1862. 


Harmon  G.  Reynolds  was  Grand  Secretary  of  the 
Grand  Lodge  of  Illinois  when  Bromwell  was  Grand 
Master;  he  retired  in  1867. 


19 


FURTHER 


LIGHT. 


FURTHER  LIGHT. 


Kail  Brothers  of  the  Rule  and   Line,  who  work  by  Truth, 
and  Honor's  laws; 

Still   striving  toward  the  Light  divine,    the  day  spring  of 
our  righteous   cause. 

The  cause  our  ancient  seers  upbore,    in  lonely  lands 
though  darkest  night; 

Still  keeping  in  their  mystic  Lore,  the  prophecy  of 
"further  Light." 


And  further  Light  spread  Truth  and   Love,  'till  now 
the  world  begins  to  know 

The  Fatherhood  of  God,  above,    the  Brotherhood    of 
Man,    below. 

And  we,   who  caught  their  thought  in  part how  oft 

we  met,   in  former  time, 

To  search  for  truths  their   "Royal  Art,"  had  woven 
in  the   "work"   sublime. 


21 


FURTHER    LIGHT 


And   oft  within   the  dimmest  lore, of  ancient  writ, 

we  sought  and  found 

Some  Jewel  from  their  secret  store concealed  of  old 

in  Holy  ground; 

-  Concealed  for  those  who  seek  aright, as   that 

Foundation  Stone  of  yore, 

"First  seen  in  Heaven"  by  Holy  Light, then cen 
tre  of  the  Master's  floor. 

And   oft  we  met  in  concourse  glad,    to  hail   our  chosen 
rulers   all, 

And  oft  with  spirits  O  how  sad, to  bear  for  some 

the  funeral   pall. 

And  this  must  be,  'till  all  shall  go,   and   none  shall 
know  that  we  were  here, 

Yet  what  is  lost  to  earth  below,    is  treasured   in  that 
higher   sphere. 


So  one  by  one  they  passed  the  bourne, whence  none 

returns  to  earthly  sight  — 

While  we  await  the  hastening  morn, which  ushers 

each  to  "Further  Light!" 


Bromwell  wrote  this  poem  as  a  greeting  to  Denver  Lodge 
No.  5;  Lawrence  N.  Greenleaf  printed  it  in  his  magazine. 
"The  Square  and  Compass,"  in  June,  1899 


22 


THE        FAITHFUL        TYLER, 


THE    FAITHFUL     TYLER. 


THE        FAITHFUL        TYLER. 


Hail  trusty  bearer  of  the  sword 

Which  ever  guards  the  Mystic    door, 

We  greet  thee  here  with  one  accord, 

And  hearts  grown  cordial  more  and  more 
Since  first  thy  hand  this   symbol  bore. 

No  sword  of  war  or  cruel   hate 

But  truth's  own  sign,  which  flaming  turns 

Incessant  to  the  narrow   gate 

By    which  the  wanderer  returns 
To   where  the  hidden  glory  burns. 

We  pledge  thee  here  with  ruby  wine 

And  bread  which  true  companions  share; 

The  bowl  which  flows  for  thee  and  thine 

We  crown  with  friendship's  garlands  fair, 
And  fruits  which  old  affections  bear, 


23 


THE    FAITHFUL    TYLER. 


For   thee  and  thine  let  years  increase, 
While  plenty  fills  her  magic  horn, 
To  shed  thro'  pleasant  ways  of  peace, 
Beyond   the  Golden  wedding  morn. 
The  precious  wine  and   oil  and    corn, 

Then  bear    thro'  time  thy   symbol  bright, 
"Till  all  thy  well  wrought  task  is  o'er, 

When  hands  which  guard   the  ports    of  light 
Shall  swing  for  thee  the  golden  door 
Which  opens  on  the  eternal  floor. 


This  poem  was  composed  for  the  silver  wedding  of 
the  Gr.  Tyler  of  Colorado,  many  years  ago," and  beaut 
ifully  engrossed  in  India  ink  by  the  author.  After  the 
Tyler's  death  his  family  gave  it  to  the  Grand  Lodge. 


24 


THE 


TESSELLED 


LOOK. 


THE    TESSELLED    FLOOR. 


THE        TESSELLED        FLOOR. 


All  hail  ye  worthy  sons  of  Light,  allied  in  Honor, 
Truth  and  Good, 

Who  'round  the  altar  meet  tonight,    where    we  so 
oft    together   stood, 

Say,    mind  ye  still  the  golden  band,     which  years 
of  friendship  'round  us  threw, 

When  heart  with  heart  and   hand  in  hand,  I   walked 
the  tesselled  floor  with  you  ? 


Now  where  our  ancient  tapers  burn,  the  mystic 
gavel  summons  all, 

But  some  who  went  may   ne'er  return while 

changing  moons  the  craft  shall   call. 

For  some  in  distant  lands  abide,'  and  task  and 
journey    still  pursue, 

Who  wore  your  jewel  s  side  by   side,  and  walked 
the  tesselled  floor  with  you, 


THE    TESSELLED    FLOOR. 


Aye,   long  we  passed  together  all,   life's  checquered 
way   thro'   light  and  gloom; 

Now  met  to  throng  the  festal  hall,   now  gathered 
'round  the  open   tomb. 

On  some  we  placed  the  badge  of  trust, on   some 

the  cassia's  branch  we  threw, 

Gave  earth  to  earth  and  dust  to  dust,    who  walked 
the  tesselled  floor  with  you  ! 


But    yet  the  jewel's  light  shall  shine, for  all  the 

upright,  near  or  far, 

Who  walk  by  plummet,   rule  and  line,  and  follow 
still  the  blazing  star; 

And   still  the  cable  wrought  of  old,    extends  the 
earthly  ground  floor  through, 

To  bind  as   one  the  scattered  fold,    who  walked 
the  tesselled   floor   with  you. 


THE    TESSSLLED     FLOOR. 


Then  fare-ye-well  !    as  oft  1  view the  "lesser 

lights"  ascend  the  sky, 

The    old   affections  burning-  new,  shall  bring    your 
distant  circle  nigh. 

Be  this  my  prayer,  though   temples   fail, and 

arch  and  altar  crumble  too, 

When   "Judah's  Lion"  shall  prevail,    to  walk  the 
Heavenly  floor   with  you. 


This  greeting  was  written  to  his  old  Lodge  at  Charleston  Ills.; 
ho  was  always  homesick  for  this  Lodge;  it  had  some  brilliant 
members,  Stanley  B.  Walker,  William  E.  Ginther,  and  Horace 
Parcels  being  his  very  dear  friends,  all  now  passed  away. 


27 


THE        LADDER        OF        BET    H E     L. 


THE    LADDER    OF    BETH— EL. 


THE        LADDER        OF        BET    H E    L. 


Salathiek 

Angel   with  the  eye  of  flarne, 
Known  to  mortals  is   thy  name; 
Oft  to  them  didst  thou  unfold 
Wond'rous  things    in   days   of  old. 
Tell  me  Angel,   tell  me  where 
Rises   Israel's  cloud-borne  stair  ? 

I    have  heard  a  tale  of  old, 

Of  a  marv'lous  ladder  told 

One  whose  steps  are  seven  times  seven . 
Reaching  from  the  Earth  to  Heaven, 
Seen   by  Patriarchal   seers, 
In  the  old  and    mystic    years. 
Thither  would  I  haste  and  climb, 
To  its  utmost  rounds  sublime: 

Step   by  step  go  up, and  know 

Things  of  life  unseen  below; 

31 


THE    LADDER    OF    BETH—EL. 


Clasp  descending  Angel's  hando, 
Climb  with  their  ascending  bands, 
To  the  empyrean   sphere 

Where  the  jasper  walls  appear 

Pass  the   sapphire  pillars  there, 
And  the  pearl-brought  portals  fair, 
Glorious  gatc.s  that  ever  stand 

Open  toward  the  other  land 

Enter  there,   and  be  at  rest 
In   the  mansions   of  the  blest. 
Wherefore  Angel,  tell  me  where 
IB  the   place  of   Beth-el's  stair, 

Uriel; 

Mortal,   on  no  earthly  land 
Doth  this  holy  ladder   stand. 
Tho'   thou   search  o'er  land   and   sea, 
Vain  shall  all  thy  labor  be, 
Yet  by  those  on  mortal  ground 

May  its  heavenward  steps  be  found 

Upright  as  the  plummet's  line, 

Rise  its  two   supports   divine 

Love  and  wisdom;   strong  and  fast 

Types  of  those  by  Hiram  cast, 

32 


THE    LADDER    OF    BETH— EL. 


Matched  in   harmony  sublime, 

Seth  beheld  them  in  his   time 

Cloud   and  fire,   supremely  grand, 
Hosts  of  Isrsel  saw  them  stand. 

Still  they  rise,   and   ever  there, 
All   the  numbered  rounds  they  bear, 
Three  and   five,  and  seven  and  nine, 

As   the  Sephiroth  divine * 

Principal  of  which  are  three, 
Faith,  and   Hope,   and  Charity. 

As   of   old,  now   even  so, 
Angels  on  them  come  and  go: 
Only  there  may  none  descend, 

Save   that  some  do  first  ascend 

As  the   seer  beheld  them  there, 
Pass  they  yet  on  Beth— el's  stair, 

Salathiel: 

Tell   what  Angels  did  he  see  ? 
Would  the  same  appear    to  me  ? 
Tell  me  why  at  Luz  alone 
Was  this  sacred  ladder  shown  ? 


THE    LADDER    OP    BETH— EL. 


Wherefore   only  then  and  there, 

Man  hatn  seen  this  heav'n  built  stair? 

Uriel: 

Angels  three  beheld  he  there, 
Friends  of  Abraham  they  were, 
Who  on  holy  mission  bent, 
Feasted  at  the  Patriarch's   tent, 
Showing  forth  these,  virtues  three, 
Faith,  and  Hope,   and   Charity: 

And  for  purposes  the  same, 

Thro'  the    earth  still  went  and  came; 

Thro'the  world,  and   also  there, 

Up  and  down  on  Beth-el's  stair. 

Salathiel: 

Didst  thou  not  declare  to  me, 
None  these  stairs  on  earth  may  see  ? 
But  thou  sayst  they  may  be  found, 
Yet  by  those  on   mortal  ground  ! 
Wherefore  hast  thou  spoken   so  ? 
Who   can  hence  thy  meaning  know? 
All  this  riddle  now  declare, 
Touching  Beth-el's  mystic  stair, 


34 


THE     LADDER    OF    BETH-EL. 


Uriel; 

If  thy   soul  will  come  with   me, 
Thou  canst  well  this  ladder  see. 
All   its  form  behold,  and   know 
How  the  Angels  come  and  go, 
Only  thou  must  tread  the  ground 
Which  the  seer  by  Haran  found, 
Of  its  stones  thy  pillow  make; 
Choosing  those  that  he  did  take; 
And  thy  cruise  of  oil  prepare, 
As  did  he  at  Beth— el's  stair. 

Salathiel: 

How  shall  I  the  road  endure 
Till  I  scrip  and  purse  procure  ? 
See  !    M:/  raiment  worn  and  old 
Shelters   not  from   heat  or  cold: 
Tempests  on  my  head  will  beat, 
Rocks  and  brambles  tear  my  feet. 
I  must  furnish  hood  and  cloak, 
Girdle  strong  and   staff  of  oak, 
Robe  of   stuff  for  pilgrim  meet, 
Cords  and  sandals  for  my  feet, 
Ere  I  on   this  journey    fare. 
To  the  place  of  Bethel's  stair, 

35 


THE    LADDER    OF    BETH— EL. 


Uriel: 

Nay,    for   those  who  go  with  me, 

Neither  clad  nor  naked  be 

Those   who  gain  that   blessed  land, 
Neither  shod  nor  barefoot  stand; 
Neither  canst  thou  there,   indeed, 
Poverty  or  riches  plead. 


If   to  go  thy  heart  incline, 
Gird  thee  with  this  cord  of  mine  — 
With  humility  and  love, 
Put  thy  trust  in  One  above. 
Naked  knee  and  bosom  bare, 
Thou  mayst  come  to  Beth-el's   stair. 

If  to   sanctify  thy  rest, 
Oil  of  Love  thy  heart  hath  blest, 
If  thy  pillow  be  in    sooth 
Of  the  chosen   stones  of  Truth: 
Thou  mayst  see  in  vision  true 
Holy  things  the  patriarchs  knew. 
Thou  mayst  see  that  ladder  rise 
From  the  earth,  to  reach  the  skies  — 

36 


THE    LADDER    OF    BETH— EL. 


See  those   beauteous  angels  three, 
Bringing  precious  gifts   for  thee. 
Thou  mayst   say  upon  this  spot, 
God  is  here  !    I   knew  it  not  ! 
This,   as.  God's  own  house  I   see; 
This  the  gate  of  Heaven   for  me  — 

As  the   Seer  did  here  declare, 

Looking    up 

on   Beth-el's   stair. 


This  poem  was  published  in  "Square  and  Compass" 
in  March,  1895,  but  may  have  been  written  at  a  much 
earlier  date. 


37 


DIRGE. 


Direful    death! 

Thy  guage  of  terror 

Spares  the  hearts 

Of  mortals  never 

Shall  thy  weapon 

Smite  forever  ? 

Who  can  pass 

Thy  square   tremendous  ? 

Who   Confront 

Thy  maul   stupendous  ? 

Who  deliver 

Or  defend  us  ? 
Helpless,  hopeless 
In  confusion, 
Face  to  face 
With    dissolution; 
All  must  end 
With  life's  illusion. 

41 


DIRGE. 


Righteous  Judge, 

We  dare   implore   Thee, 

Quick  and  dead 

Are   here  before  Thee  — 

Wilt  Thou   save, 

O   King  of  glory  ? 

Thou  canst  'suage 

Our  desperation 

Thou   Almighty 
In   creation; 
So,  Almighty 
In   salvation! 

Hark  !  th'   Omnific 
Word  from  Zion 
See  !  the  sign 
Of  life  undying. 
Hail  !  the  grasp 
Of  Judah's  Lion  I 


42 


DIRGE. 


Blessed   Death  ! 
Thy  shrouded    portal 
Opens   toward 

The  realms   immortal 

There  the  loved, 

And    lost,  are  found 

Glory  be  to  God 

Eternal  ! 

Glory  to  the   Word 

Supernal  ! 

There  the  capstone   lost, 

Is    found. 

Glory  to   ttye  Love 

Supernal. 

Glory  to  the   Word 

Eternal   ! 

All   by  Love,   the  capstone, 

Crowned. 

43 


D        I        R        G        E.        (  NO.   2.  ) 


Woe  !   woe,   for  the   lost 

v/ho  have  gone: 
Who  sink   in  t^e  gloom   of    the 

infinite  night 

The  night  which  hath  never 

a  dawn; 
We  shrink  from  their  graves  as  they 

pass  from  our    sight, 
To  the  shades  where  our  fathers 

have  gone, 

Woe  !   woe,  for  the  loving 

forlorn 

The  bleeding    hearts   riven  by  sorrow 

and  pain, 
In  dust  and  in  ashes  they 

mourn; 
And  strive  to    recall  their  beloved 

again, 

From  the  land  where  our  fathers 
have  gone. 
44 


DIRGE. 


Joy  !  joy,  for  the  lost   who   have 

gone, 
They  have  passed   from  our  gloom 

to  the  infinite  light 

They  hail   the  unspeakable 

dawn — - 
The  Day-spring  which  rises  o'er  sorrow 

and  night, 
In  the  Home  where  our  fathers  have 

gone. 

Joy  !    joy,  for  the  loving  and 

lorn 

For   the  ashes  and  dust  unto  them 

shall  be  given, 
The  wine,   and  the  oil  and  the 

corn 

The  bleeding  hearts  never  again   shall 

be  riven, 
In  the    land  where  our  fathers  have 

gone. 


The  two  dirges  given  here  were  among  his  last  productions; 
composed  for   the  Burial  Service  of  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Colora 
do,  about  1895. 

45 


ABRAHAM 


LINCOLN. 


ABRAHAM  LINCOLN. 


Gone  are  the  days  of  his  glory, 

Days  when  the  multitude  listened, 
With  Senates  in  wisdom   assembled, 

Words  of  the  leader  to  hear. 
Fallen  is  the  chief;  and  his  mantle, 
Cast  on  the  choice  of  his  people, 
Presses  like  Saul's  heavy   armor, 

None  of  the  striplings  might  bear. 

Nay,    'tis   the  day  of  his  glory 

Gone  but  the  Senates  that  listened 

His  is  the  day  of  humanity, 

Rising  henceforth   to  its  fullness 

Nov/   doth  its  brightness  draw  near; 
Some  may  be  rulers  of  senates, 

Some  rule  the  turbulent  present 

He  shall  be  master  of  ages, 
Sending  the  voice  of  his  presence. 

On  thro'  the  ports  of  the  years. 

49 


ABRAHAM      LINCOLN. 


Death,   when   he  smiteth   the  greatest. 

Pauses  till  Earth  shall  take  notice • 

Waits  till   the  hearts  of  a  nation 

Bleed   at  one  stroke  of  his  hand. 
Death,  ere  he  smote  him,  the  greatest, 

Paused  till  the  world  had  elected 

Held  the  dread  blow,   till  a  nation 

Quailed   at  the  sweep  of  his  brand. 


Death,   in  thy  harvest  unceasing, 
Where  dost  thou  garner  thy  reapings? 
Hast  thou  a  place  in  thy    keeping 

Where  thou  dost  treasure  thy  sheaves  ? 
Death,   in  thy  harvest  unceasing, 
When  thou  hadst  smitten  the  chieftain, 
Didst  thou  not  pause  with  thy  reapers 
Until  thou    hadst  fitted  a  casket 

Worthy  such   spoil  to  receive  ? 


50 


ABRAHAM     LINCOLN, 


Death,   in   the  sheaves  of  thy  quiver, 
Hadst  thou  no  shaft  to   be  wielded, 
Save  by  the  red   hand   of  murder, 

Stained  with  the  blood  of  all  crime  ? 
Hadst  thou  of  all   thy  grim   ministers 
None   that  would   serve  at  thy   bidding, 
Save  this   foul  demon  of  murder, 

Damned  with  the  curse  of  all  time  ? 
Saving  fell  murder  and   treason, 

Shaming  all  hell  with  their  crime  ? 

Well  might  a  nation  in  trembling. 
Ruler  and  captain  and  people, 
Aged  and   stripling  assembling, 

Walk  in  the  sorrowing  train  ! 
Walk  with  the  badges  of  sadness, 
Walk  to  the  semi-toned  wailing, 

Poured  in  the  funeral  strain: 
Strain  which  all  instruments  sounding 
Caught  from  all  spirits  surrounding  — 

Tones  of  all  anguish  and  pain, 

51 


ABRAHAM    LINCOLN. 


Slowly,  mournfully,  'bear  him 
On,  by  the  river  and  highland, 
On,  by  the  field  and  the  homestead. 

On,  by  the  forest  and  plain; 
Homesteads    of  freemen,  his  fellows, 
Fields  of  their  labors  and  glories, 
River  and  highland  and   forest, 
Spread  for  humanity's  empire, 

Liberty's    ample  domain. 


Slowly,   mournfully,   warriors, 

Cast  ye  the  brotherly  token 

Brave  was  the  spirit  and  noble, 
Firm  was  the  arm  that  is  broken, 

Warm  was  the  heart  that  is  cold- 
Slowly,  mournfully,    sages, 
Heap  ye  the  dust    on  his  bosom; 
Dust  that  was  form  of  your  master. 

Now  shall  the  sepulchre  hold. 

52 


ABRAHAM     LINCOLN. 


Mournfully,  slowly,   philanthropists, 
Set  ye  the  stones  of  his  sepulchre  — 
Plant,  all  ye  friends  of  humanity, 

Evergreens  round  him  and  o'er: 
Lost  have  ye  toilers  and  friendless, 

Brother  and  champion  and  more  - 
Slowly,   silently,   mournfully  — 
Backward  all  from  his  presence 


Leave  him  to  rest  while  his  country 
Waits  at  his  feet  evermore. 


Oak,  do  thou  guard  well  his  resting, 
For  thou  art  noble  and  mighty, 
And  thou  dost  buffet  the  tempests 

As  he  did  buffet  the  storm. 
Pine,     cast  thy   shadow  above  him, 
For  thou  over-towerest  thy  fellows, 
So  did  he  tower  among  others, 

Such  were  his  spirit    and  form. 


53 


ABRAHAM      LINCOLN. 


Vine,   do  thou  twine  round  his  headstone, 
For  thy  rich   spirit  brings   gladness  — 
So  did   the    light  of  his  presence  — 

Crown  with   thy  clusters  his  tomb: 
Rose,   do  thou  bend  o'er  his   bosom. 

Ever  thou   sheddest  sweet  odors 

Such  did  the  bloom  of  his   virtues 

Shed    o'er    his  heart  thy  perfume; 

Violet,  shine  at  his  footstone, 
For  humble  and  pure  is  thy  bloom. 


Death,   when   thy  harvest  is   ended, 
When  thou   thy  spoil  must  surrender, 
Wilt  thou    not   wrestle   with  Michael, 

Even  as  that  spirit  of  old  — 
Wrestle  with   strength  for  him  also, 
Even  as  the  spirit  of  Evil 

Wrestled  for  Moses  of  old? 
Yes,   but  thy  hand    must  deliver - 


54 


ABRAHAM    LINCOLN. 


All  from  thy  grasp   shall   the  Giver 
Take,    both    the  least  and  the  greatest; 

Naught  of  thy  prey  shalt  thou  hold  — 
This  though   thou  clasp  to  the  latest, 

Still  shall  come  forth  from  thy  hold. 


Slowly,  mournfully,  bear  him 

On  to   the  hill  everlasting  

Where  it  looks  forth  to  the  day-spring, 

Proud  and  serene  as  his    fame 

Looks  o'er  the  green-vested  prairies, 
Broad    as  his  boundless  benevolence, 

Calmly  serene  as  his  fame; 
There  with  his  people  before  him, 
Statesmen  and    patriots  lower  him: 
Well  may  ye  bend  o'er   the  ashes, 

Who  walked  in  the  light  of  the  flame. 


55 


LINCOLN'    S  BURIAL, 


LINCOLN'    S  BURIAL, 


They  laid   him  in  the  low-arched  tomb, 

Between  the  brook  and  curving  hill. 
The  slender  oaks  stand   silent  all, 
The  sunlight  and   the  shadows  fall, 
Around  him  sweet  and   still. 


The  brook  a  tale,   in  symbols  told, 

Repeats  along  the  winding  dell 
The  story  of  his  humble  birth, 
The  constancy  and  manly  worth, 

Which    made  him  loved  so  well. 

59 


LINCOLN'S     BURIAL. 


The    May  flowers  gem   the  circling  crest, 

As   jewels    of   his    martyr  crown; 
Or  like   fond  eyes  with  tear-drops  dim, 
The  human  eyes  that  weep  for    him, 
Their  azure  disks  look   down. 

Where  hundreds   of  his  people  sleep 

In  nameless  sepulchres  around, 
'Tis    well  that  he  who  loved  them  best, 
The    Shepherd   with  his  flock   should    rest, 
In  that  secluded  ground. 

O  tiny  stream of  all  on   Earth, 

Mayst  thou  with  melodies  draw  near  ? 

O  simple  flowers,   of  all  that  shine 

Were  ye  alone    ordained  to  twine 
A  garland  for  his    bier  ? 


60 


LINCOLN'S     BURIAL. 


O,    holy  hours,   pass   stilly  o'er 

That   silent  city  of  the  dead  I 
That  angels  catch  the  softest  sigh* 
Of  Pilgrim  mourners  kneeling  by 
The   Patriot-Martyr's   bed. 


Note: 

The  first  of  these  two  poems  was  written  soon  after  Lincoln's 
death,  and  appeared  in  the  Washington  Chronicle,  and  later  in 
other  papers.  The  last  poem  was  composed  after  the  entomb 
ment,  and  was  published  in  papers  of  the  date,  and  lately,  with 
Eugene  Parsons'  Poets  of  Colorado  in  The  Trail.  (Aug.  1919.) 

Bromwell,   who  was  a   member  of  Congress    at  the  time,    at 
tended  the  burial,  being  Grand  Master,   and  marched   with  oth 
er  members  of  the  Grand   Lodge  of  Illinois,   and  many  Masonic 
lodges. 

He  left  Washington  for  Illinois  several  days  before,  and  was 
to  have  returned  eastward  to  meet  the  other  members  of  the 
Illinois  delegation,  and  the  body,  at  an  intermediate  point,  and 
join  the  escort  to  place  of  burial. 

But,  on  reaching  Springfield,  he  found  the  town  in  great  dis 
tress,  the  people  prostrated  with   sorrow.    Many  public  officials 
had  gone  to  meet  the  escort,  and  no  one  seemed  to  have  courage 
to  begin  the  work  of  draping  the  interior  of  the  Capitol,  or  of 


61 


LINCOLN'S      BURIAL. 


the  hall  where  the  bier  must  be  erected;  he  knew  that 
this  should  be  prepared  in  a  fine  style,  and  he  at  once 
found  the  architect  of  the  State  House,  and  also  the  art 
ist  George  Wright,  (  a  painter  of  Lincoln,)  and  together 
they  planned  a  most  beautiful  arrangement. 

So,  instead  of  going  back,  to  return  with  the  others, 
Bomwell  stopped  in  Springfield,  working,  with  the  peo 
ple,  day  and  night,  without  sleep,  and  almost  without 
food.  He  cut  out  all  the  silver  stars  which  he  placed  in 
the  clouds  of  black  crepe  over  and  about  the  catafalque, 
hung:  the  curtains  of  velvet,  and  the  work  was  finished 
but  shortly  before  the  sounding  whistle  of  the  train  her 
alded  the  arrival  of  the  escort  with  the  body. 

As  they  viewed  their  lovely,  harmonious,  completed  de 
sign,  Bromwcll,  (who  knew  the  General,)  suggested  that 
they  send  out  for  spikes,  and  fasten  the  catafalque  down 
so  the  composition  could  not  be  changed;  this  was  done, 
and  he  drove  in  the  first  ones,  Wright  and  the  others  fol 
lowing,  until  all  were  in  the  floor,  six  on  each  side. 

So  soon  as  the  body  arrived,  the  General  gave  a  com 
mand  to  have  the  head  turned  the  other  way. 

A  squad  of  soldiers  moved  upon  it  with  gusto,  but  it 
remained  firm,  and  the  General  experienced  the  pain  of 
changing  his  mind. 


0 


